Part 9 (1/2)

We fell into a veritable stream of lavishly dressed company, and entered beneath a huge gilded archway into what might have been an enormous courtyard or hall, I could not tell which. Hundreds of people were milling about.

On the margins of this s.p.a.ce were tall stately evergreens decked with candles, and just before us an endless row of heavily draped tables stretching out to the right and the left.

Some guests were already seated including a company in rich robes and caps, their faces toward the great open s.p.a.ce beyond the tables where any number of male servants were coming and going with wineskins, trays of goblets, and platters of what appeared to be gilded fruit.

High above us were great painted wooden arches garlanded with flowers, and supporting an endless canopy of s.h.i.+mmering silver cloth.

Torches flared on the margins of the room. And heavy golden and silver candelabra were being placed every few feet along the tables, together with golden plates. People were taking their seats on cus.h.i.+oned benches.

I was led to the far right where several men were already seated, and we quickly took our places. I found it awkward handling the sword. I placed my lute safely at my feet.

The place was now swarming with guests.

There must have been over a thousand. Everywhere the women were a feast for the eye with their bare white shoulders and scantily covered b.r.e.a.s.t.s, in deeply colored gowns with slashed sleeves, and ropes of pearls and gems in their elaborately done hair. But the younger men seemed equally as interesting, with their l.u.s.trous long hair, and brightly colored hose. Their slashed sleeves were as ornate as those of the women, and they wore an infinite variety of colors as well. The men were preening, more boldly than the women, but a contagious goodwill seem to unite all.

Suddenly, a troop of boys appeared, dressed in flimsy belted tunics, obviously intended to evoke ancient Greek or Roman tastes. Their arms and legs were bare, and they wore gilded sandals, and garlands of leaves and blossoms in their hair.

Surely their cheeks had been rouged, and maybe some paint applied as well to darken their eyes. They laughed and smiled and murmured easily, filling goblets and offering plates of candies, as though they'd been doing this sort of thing all their young lives.

One of these lithe little Ganymedes filled the silver goblets in front of us from a huge wineskin that he handled deftly as though he'd done this a thousand times.

Far to the right of us, a group of musicians had begun to play, and it seemed the voices around me grew louder, as if excited by the music. The music itself was uncommonly lovely, with a rich melody rising, a melody that sounded familiar to me but which really wasn't, played by viols, lutes and horns. Surely there were other instruments, but I didn't know what they were. Another group of musicians far to my left joined the first in the very same song. A slow rhythmic drumbeat underscored the melody, and other melodies became interwound with it, until I lost track of the structure of the music altogether. I could feel the beating of the drums against my ears.

I was enthralled by all of this, but I was also disturbed. My eyes were watering as much from perfume as from candle wax.

”Malchiah wants me to do this,” I pressed. I reached out and touched the young man's right wrist. ”He wants that I attend this banquet?”

”Do you think he would allow it if he didn't want it?” the man answered with the most innocent expression. ”Here, drink. You've been here almost a full day and you haven't tasted the delicious wine of Italy.” He smiled again that very sweet and loving smile, as he put my goblet in my hand.

I was about to protest that I never drank, couldn't even bear the smell of it, when I realized this wasn't really entirely true, just a matter of policy, and the delicious aroma of the wine was rising with a remarkable seductive power. I took the goblet and tasted it. It was the way I loved it, dry and with a slight smoky flavor, and as good a wine as I'd ever had. I took another drink of it, and a soothing warmth moved through me. Who was I to question what the angels wanted? All around me people were feasting from golden plates, and chattering comfortably with one another, and as a third group of musicians joined the other ensembles, I felt myself yielding to this, as if to a dream.

”Here, drink again,” said my companion. He pointed to a slender blond woman who was just pa.s.sing us in the company of several older persons, a vision with her yellow hair done up in white flowers and brilliant jewels.

”That is the young woman who caused all the trouble,” he said to me, ”your Leticia, whom Lodovico so coveted, though she is promised to Niccol, who almost lost his life.” His tone was almost reverent but something about his choice of words disturbed me and I might have said something about it, but he offered me my own goblet again.

I drank. And I drank again.

My head swam. I shut my eyes and opened them again, seeing at first nothing but myriad candles blazing everywhere, and only now did I see there were tables under the arches all down both sides of this grand s.p.a.ce. They were as crowded as we were here.

One of the boys refilled my cup, and smiled warmly at me as he moved away. I drank again. Slowly my head cleared. Everywhere I looked I saw color and movement. People were moving out of the open s.p.a.ce before us, and the music grew louder, and quite suddenly two trumpets sounded, to a great outbreak of applause.

Into the open s.p.a.ce before us came a troupe of dancers, brilliantly costumed to suggest cla.s.sical G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses, in gilded armor and helmets, with s.h.i.+elds and spears, and they performed for us now a kind of slow, graceful and careful ballet. People were applauding eagerly, and the chatter everywhere increased in volume again.

I could have watched these languid dancers forever as they made their careful circles and turns, and formations. Suddenly the music picked up, the dancers moved away, and a lute player came to the fore, and placing one foot on a small silver stool, he proceeded to sing loudly but gracefully in Latin of the varieties of love.

A kind of dizziness came over me, but I felt warm and supremely comfortable and dazzled by what I saw before me. The lute player was gone. There were actors again, some got up as horses, and they were acting a battle scene with much noise and frequent rounds of applause.

There was food on the gold plate in front of me, and indeed I realized I'd been eating it rather eagerly, when the servants came to remove our dishes and to remove the tablecloth to reveal another cloth, of crimson and gold, underneath.

Bowls of scented water were being pa.s.sed for us to wash our hands.

The first course had been taken away and I'd scarcely noticed it, and now came the servants with platters of roasted fowl and steaming vegetables. And we were once again piling the food on our plates. There were no forks, but that didn't surprise me. We ate with our fingers and with the aid of gold knives. Again and again, I drank as the boys refilled our goblets, and my eyes were drawn back to the area before me when a great painted backdrop of streets and buildings was wheeled noisily into place, transforming the flagstones into a more elaborate stage.

I couldn't make out the subject of the drama that followed. I was distracted by the undercurrent of music, and finally just too sleepy to pay much attention to any one beautiful thing.

Another round of applause drew me out of my daze. Suckling pigs were being brought in now and the aroma was overpowering, though I did not want to eat anymore.

A sudden alarm brought me to my senses. What was I doing? Why was I here? I'd meant to grieve and mourn for Lodovico and my own failure to save him, yet I was banqueting with strangers, and laughing with them at lavish theatricals that made little or no sense to me at all.

I wanted to speak but the man who'd brought me here was talking with the one next to him, and saying in the most earnest voice. ”Do it. Do what you want to do. You will do it, anyway, won't you? So why torture yourself about it, or about anything, for that matter?”

He stared forward and drank from his cup.

”You didn't tell me your name,” I said, touching his sleeve.

He turned and flashed one of his tenderest smiles at me. ”It has too many syllables,” he said, ”and you have no need to know it.”

The meat was being offered to us. He cut a large piece from the platter and put it on my plate. With a giant gold spoon he scooped up the rice and the cabbage and gave me a helping of this as well.

”No, no more,” I said. ”I must leave, actually. I have to get back.”

”Oh, nonsense, you mustn't. They'll be dancing soon, for everyone. And then more entertainment. The evening's only just begun. These celebrations go on all night.” He pointed to a group at the distant tables that flanked the right side of the hall. ”See there, those are guests of the Cardinal from Venice. He's doing his very best to impress them.”

”That's all fine and good,” I said. ”But I have to see what's happened to Vitale. I think I've been here too long.”

I heard a lovely light riff of laughter near me, and I turned to see that incomparably beautiful Leticia bending her head towards the man beside her. ”Surely she doesn't know that Niccol has lost his brother,” I said.

”No, of course, she doesn't,” said my companion. ”Do you think the family is going to publicize the disgrace, that the idiot took his own life? They're burying him and leave them alone to do it. Let them do their sneaking off by themselves.”

I felt a cold anger come over me. ”Why do you talk of them like that?” I asked. ”They're suffering, all of them, and I'm here to help them in their suffering, I'm here as an answer to their prayers. You sound as if you don't approve of them or their prayers!”

I realized I'd raised my voice. It seemed brazen. I was confused. Was I talking to an angel?

He stared at me, and I got lost suddenly in studying his face. His eyebrows were high placed and dark and straight, and his eyes themselves very large and clear. His mouth was soft, full and smiling as though he thought me entertaining, but he didn't seem scornful or disdainful at all.

”Are you the answer to their prayers?” he asked gently. He seemed so very concerned. ”Are you? Do you really think that is why you're here?” He seemed to be speaking very softly, too softly for this immense place, and too softly to be heard over that urgent and beautiful music coming from both sides of the hall. But I could hear every word he said.

”What if I told you that you were not the answer to anyone's prayer, that you were the dupe of spirits who would have you believe this for reasons of their own?” He appeared worried, and he laid his warm hand on my left wrist.

I was terrified. I said nothing. I just looked at him, at the soft thick waves of his long hair, at his steady eyes. I wasn't terrified of him, but of what he had just said. If that was so, the world was meaningless and I was lost. I felt it keenly and instantly.

”What are you saying?” I asked.

”That you've been lied to,” he offered with the same tender solicitude. ”There are no angels, Toby, there are only spirits, discarnate spirits and the spirits of those who've been alive in the flesh and are no longer alive in the flesh. You weren't sent here to help anybody. The spirits who are manipulating you are feeding off your emotions, feeding as surely as the people in this room are feeding off these plates.”

He seemed desperate to make me understand this. I could have sworn tears were coming to his eyes.

”Malchiah didn't send you here, did he? You have nothing to do with him,” I said.

”Of course, he didn't send me, but you must ask yourself why he can't stop me from telling you the truth.”